


Shoots and Ladders

by Caswingsuniverse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caswingsuniverse/pseuds/Caswingsuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel invites his classmates to his birthday party, but no one shows. Except for a particular jock who may have a slight crush on the birthday boy.<br/>Enjoy some fluff for these hard times :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoots and Ladders

Castiel isn’t sure what he expected. Gabriel pushed him to have what he labeled a “party” to celebrate his 16th birthday, wrapping his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and whispering in his ear. The conversation made Castiel roll his eyes as he counted how many bags of Sweet Tarts his brother went through (4 over the 2 hours). 

Castiel wasn’t sure what was more painful, watching his brother fill his stomach with 3 pounds of sugar or telling his classmates that he planned on having a small get together. 

At Gildredge High School, Castiel is a mysterious entity. Not the cool, new kid kind of mystery, but the mystery of solitude. Everyone knew the Novaks. Gabriel was the loud class clown, Anna the head of the Student Committee. Even his oldest brothers, Lucifer and Micheal, were legendary sports players when they attended high school. But Castiel, no one really noticed. There were a few whispers of how he never really talked to anyone, about how he’s the valedictorian for the sophomore class. And Castiel didn’t mind this, preferred it to interacting with the rude idiots his age.

But now, he sits in the empty living room of the Novak manner, a pizza on the counter next to some soda, board games set out in front of him. Castiel regrets not interacting with his classmates more, just so he could be saved from the embarrassment he keeps feeling twinges of in his chest. It leaves a bad taste in his throat, makes his heart jump whenever a car drives by. 

Castiel sighs, pushing up his glasses. Standing, he begins stacking the board games on the table. His entire family had left the house for the afternoon to let him enjoy the day unhindered, which gave him the opportunity to tell them someone showed up. Then it would be over and no one but him would know. 

Just as he fits all of the pieces for Sorry! back into the box, the doorbell rings. He jumps, causing the pieces to fly into the air and clatter on the floor. Staring at the front door, Castiel clutches the box in his hands. After a second, his brain starts functioning again. 

“Coming!” he calls, putting the game back on the table and leaving the pieces on the floor. He strides to the door, frowning. It couldn’t be his family, they would have walked in. 

In the narrow space of time, Castiel figures it’s either the mail man or someone who pities him and decided to come to his house fifteen minutes late. He tries to imagine which of his fellow peers would pity him enough. Maybe Charlie, the cute geeky girl who writes for the newspaper. Or Chuck, his partner in Biology. Maybe even Balthazar, the child of an old family friend that occasionally ate lunch with Castiel to avoid the chatter of high school.  
When he opens the door, ready to say “Can I help you?” he freezes. He gapes, stammering as his eyes meet the bright green ones. The ones he saw sometimes in his dreams. The ones surrounded by freckles and a smile he’d memorized over the years. They boy he least expected to end up on his doorstep. Dean Winchester. 

Talk about pity. 

Dean must have felt super bad, or had even been dared by his fellow football players, to attend the party. Castiel could never fathom a universe where the boy came of his own accord. Dean stares back at the boy, taking in the casual black t-shirt and light blue jeans that hung loosely on his hips. Dean raises at eyebrow, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket. He clears his throat and says, “Hey, Castiel.”

The sound of the football player’s voice makes Castiel jump, then blink and realize he’d been standing there staring for at least half a minute. He opens the door wider, nodding at Dean. “Hello, Dean. Come in?”

Dean nods back, carefully stepping into the foyer like his boots would fall through the hard wood floors. He scans the foyer quickly, a smile twitching on his lips when he notices the family photos hanging on the wall. On further inspection, Dean notices there is no other sound except for their breathing. Not even the smallest hint of music. He turns to face Castiel, who gapes at him with the door still open, and he blushes.

“You here alone, man?” Dean asks, looking at the floor as he speaks. 

Castiel’s eyes widen and he closes the door. “Yes, I was just about to put everything away. Would you like something? I have pizza and soda.”

Dean looks up at the other boy, meeting Castiel’s blue eyes and getting lost for a second. He blinks a few times to wake himself up, then puts on his most charming smile. “I don’t want to impose, I didn’t know I was that late.”

Castiel shakes his head, an embarrassed flush rising to his neck and ears. “You are not that late, Dean,” he admits, looking away. “I am sure this appears quite pathetic, but you are the first person to arrive.”

Dean frowns, the memory of Castiel inviting their peers to his 16th birthday party one by one appearing in his mind. His voice shook and his eyes couldn’t stay focused on anyone as he spoke. Dean thought it was endearing, how awkward the other boy got around people, and wondered how it would be if Castiel got comfortable around someone. Around him. He goes through a list of names in his head, deciding to talk to some of his friends about being rude to the poor guy. He isn’t mean or weird or anything, just quiet. It’s just who Castiel is, something that Dean liked. 

Standing up taller, Dean smiles again at Castiel. “I’ll take you up on that pizza.”

The other boy tilts his head, squinting at Dean like he’s trying to see inside his head. After a second, Castiel shrugs and leads Dean into the living room. There are a minimal amount of decorations, just nice table clothes thrown across the two tables set up. The pizza, drinks and cake sit on one, untouched. Pieces of Sorry! still litter the floor, and Castiel blushes and hurries to clean it up. 

“I apologize for the mess, you startled me. I was just starting to put the games away when you rang the doorbell.” 

Castiel focuses on picking up the pieces, and Dean’s heart pangs. Anger rages through his blood like an army ready to charge and he considers fighting everyone who didn’t come. Satisfied with some of the daydreams, Dean kneels next to Castiel. They put the pieces back in their places and push the cover back over the top in silence. When they stand, Dean picks up the box with a smirk and says, “Sorry I scared you.”

Castiel laughs. Honestly laughs, nose scrunching up and hand going to cover his mouth as the sound fills the living room. Dean grins, anger forgotten for the moment. The least he could do was make the boy laugh on his birthday. 

Shaking his head, Castiel takes the game from the football player’s hands and puts it on top of the stack at the end of the table. He turns and opens the pizza box, putting pizza on two plates. As he opens the bottle of Coke, he asks, “Coke or Sprite?”

“Cola, please.” Dean watches the other teen move as he sits, eyes examining him from his straight shoulders to his black converses. He’d had a crush on Castiel since the middle of their freshmen year, a budding feeling he kept hidden from his friends, family, and sometimes himself. As time went on, Dean found himself looking for Castiel in the hallways, the library, the cafeteria, and getting disappointed when he didn’t see the familiar crop of black hair. He would listen, completely enthralled, when Castiel would read passages or explain his analysis in English, the one class they shared. He would try to memorize the smooth grumble of Castiel’s voice, one of his favorite sounds next to the purr of Baby’s engine. Dean couldn’t quite describe how he felt to himself in the late hours of the night when he couldn’t sleep, but knew that he wanted to get to know the teen better. That he wanted to be the person Castiel talked to, confided in.  
Castiel places a plate and glass of coke in front of Dean, staring at his own plate as he settles across from the football player. Dean starts to eat immediately, almost done with his slice of pizza when he notices that Castiel hadn’t even picked up his. He swallows, leaning forward. 

“Cas?” he says, using the nickname he’d made up in his head for the first time. Realizing his mistake, he bites his lip and holds his breath. 

Looking up, Castiel gazes into Dean’s eyes. Bores into them. Searches them for some hint as to why Dean, of all people, would show up at his house. The nickname causes his stomach flip, and he tries to keep himself from getting hopeful.

“You do not have to stay, if you do not wish to,” he says instead of what he’s thinking. 

Dean frowns again, leaning closer. He looks into both of Castiel’s eyes, seeing the confusion and hurt residing in them. “Cas, you invited me, so I’m here. Besides, no one should be alone on their birthday.” 

Castiel sits and stares, hands limp in his lap. The football player spoke with a sincerity that shocked him. Dean finishes the crust of his pizza, eyes moving around the room. His gaze settles on the stack of games at the end of the table, smiling fondly when he sees the familiar names. He focuses on one, blushing. A thought flashes through his head, one where his body lightly touches Castiel’s in place he didn’t think could feel so warm. Twister has many possibilities. Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat, laughing to expel his uneasiness. “Wanna play a game of Twister?” 

Coughs erupt from the other teen. Castiel pats his chest, then takes a sip of his drink to clear his throat. Gaging from his reaction and the slight pink of his cheeks, Dean figures the same thought crossed Castiel’s mind. Dean smirks while Castiel’s eyes bounce around the room. Castiel glances up at the football player, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. 

“If that is what you wish, Dean. You are my guest,” Castiel responds, voice calm. 

Dean raises an eyebrow at the answer, heart skipping a beat. Castiel Novak, valedictorian, just flirted with him. He keeps his expression interested and cool even though his stomach feels like a stove top. He shakes his head as he moves to grab the box sitting just below Sorry! Dean examines the worn box, the design he’d seen over and over in his life. He lets the memories of games with Sam push back the sexually fueled ideas forming in his head. As much as he would love to enact out the ideas in the back of his mind, he came here to get to know Castiel. “Would you settle for a classic game of Shoots and Ladders instead?”

Castiel’s shoulders relax enough to let Dean know he’s relieved about the change of subject. Dean smiles encouragingly at him. Sexual tension may have it’s perks, but it’s not the same as the interactions Dean’s having with Castiel now. It doesn’t warm his heart, it doesn’t make his chest feel tingly. 

“That sounds great.” Castiel’s smile in response is sweet, and shares the same sentiment. His previous thoughts were occupied with the idea of Dean’s body pressed against his as they strained to maintain balance, an intriguing image to say the least, but not exactly what he wanted at the moment. For the same question plagued him, replaying in his head over in a relentless chant that had begun to make him feel anxious. 

Castiel pushes aside his half eaten pizza, taking Dean’s plate to put in the trash bin behind him. He gestures at the table with his hand in a silent invitation for Dean to set up the game. Standing, Castiel grabs more Coke, filling his cup once more. He smiles at Dean as the football player unfolds the board like it’s an ancient document. Each taking a piece, they get ready to start. 

“You go first, birthday boy,” Dean says, leaning back in his seat. 

Snorting, Castiel holds the spinner as he flicks it with his forefinger. He moves his acquired number of spaces before grinning at Dean. The other teen rubs his palms together and rolls his shoulder, flicking the spinner in the same manner. They go back and forth like this, laughing and groaning as they each go across the board. When Dean lands on a ladder, Castiel back towards the beginning due to a long shoot, the quiet boy finally voices his concern. 

“Dean, why are you here really?” Castiel watches Dean’s hand freeze over the spinner. He can’t force himself to look at the football player, fiddling with the edge of his paper plate instead. 

“You really get to the center of things, don’t ya, Cas?” The other boy rubs the back of his neck, humming to show he’s trying to think of an answer. He drops his hand to the table, shrugging even though Castiel isn’t looking his way. Dean swallows nothing over and over, mouth suddenly dry. Taking sips of his drink, he tries to conjure up an answer that would cover his tracks. Dean stares at the game before them, his piece inbetween a shoot that would put him behind Castiel on the board and a ladder that would take him to the last bit of track to the end. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Dean tries to decide what he’s going to do. He doesn’t want to put himself on the line based on a children’s game, but Castiel’s silence pushes him to flick the spinner. When the number puts him at the base of the ladder, Dean grins. 

He looks up at the boy sitting across from him, raising an eyebrow when he sees Castiel flush at the sight of his smile. “To be honest Cas, it’s cause I saw an opportunity to get to know you better.”

Castiel gapes at Dean as the boy moves his piece the allotted number of spaces. His heart skips a beat as he contemplates the meaning of the words. The football player continues smile as he slides his piece up the ladder. 

Dean laughs, a soft sound Castiel hears but isn’t sure how to interpret. "Ya see Cas, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have even the slightest crush on you." 

There’s a pause between them, Dean sitting back as he watches Castiel’s reaction. The quiet boy blushes, biting his bottom lip as he looks down. Castiel’s heart pangs in his ears and his palms start to sweat. Something starts tingling in his stomach, a tickle that bubbles in his chest and makes him smile. He runs a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls. 

Dean watches Castiel carefully as he continues. He rubs the back of his neck, free hand pulling at something in his jacket pocket. “I’ll get out of your hair now, but… I did get you a little something.”

Dean puts a CD in the middle of the board, Cas’s Mixtape: Happy Birthday. He stands, looking away as Castiel picks up the case and flips it, reading the list of songs on the back. Rock songs ranging from Elvis to Fall Out Boy make up the list. Castiel tilts his head, reading each title with extreme focus. Dean’s voice is quiet as he explains, “I heard you humming ‘Hey Jude’ the other day and thought you’d like those.”

Castiel looks back and forth between the football player and the gift in his hands. “Dean…”

Shaking his head, Dean smiles and turns to leave. Castiel scrambles to get out of his seat and around the table. He grabs Dean’s hand, trying to figure out a way to thank him. No words come to mind. His arms feel heavy, ache to wrap around Dean and thank him through physical touch. When green eyes meet his, he steps back and lets go of Dean’s hand. 

“Would you… Do you want to hang out again sometime?” Castiel offers a small smile, running a hand through his hair again. 

Dean Winchester stares at Castiel, pulse fluttering for a second. Looking up Castiel up and down, he contemplates it for a second. Dean winks, smiling as he says, “Sounds like a date."


End file.
